E-mail: jessicat@jesst.com
Rating: G-R
Summary: Alternate CoS.
Disclaimer: Let's see. I don't think I ever said I owned anything. Therefore, JKR and WB have rights to it all and I have rights to nothing.
Feedback: Yes, please. I like to feel appreciated.
Love and Hate
by Jessica
Students flooded from the Great Hall, dividing as they each headed for their separate houses. Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who had rejoined them as they left the hall after disappearing to the bathroom for a short
time, paused as the crowd stopped dead. The murmuring and laughter faded to an uneasy muttering and the threesome worked their way forward only to gasp at what they saw.
Harry was the one to voice the words written in glistening red above the stiff-as-a-board cat hanging from a torch bracket. His voice was a whisper as he said, "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware!" Something flickered in the emerald depths of his eyes behind the glasses he wore.
"What the-" Ron began in horrified awe. Hermione shook her head as she too read the words Harry had whispered. A derisive laugh broke the ominous silence- one the three knew all to well.
"Enemies of the Heir beware?" Malfoy snorted, smirking at Hermione as he shoved his way forward. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" he called.
It was perhaps Harry's reaction that topped the shock of Malfoy's taunting statement. He turned to glare into storm-gray eyes and they watched the Slytherin freeze. He darted forward to grasp Malfoy's robes and hissed something in his ear that made the normally already pale boy turn chalky white. Harry's lips moved again and some color returned to the Slytherin's cheeks and he nodded. Returning to Ron and Hermione, he gave a knowing, if uncharacteristic, smirk.
"What did you say?" Ron asked curiously. "I haven't seen him look that white since he got detention last year."
"I think we have more important things to worry about," Hermione muttered, gesturing at the message. "Do you _know_ what the Chamber of Secrets is?"
"No," both boys replied, looking suitably puzzled. Any explanation Hermione was going to give was stopped by Filch's arrival and his ensuing panic over Mrs. Norris. The crowd was broken up quickly,
everyone quickly lead off by their house Prefect. Lagging behind, Harry, Ron, and Hermione noted Dumbledore's pronouncement that the cat was not dead, but only petrified.
"What on earth could petrify a cat?" Ron wondered aloud as they dropped into chairs in the common room a few minutes later. Hermione opened her mouth to finish her explanation begun previously.
"Whatever's in the Chamber of Secrets could," she said. "I read about it somewhere- it's supposedly a chamber built by Slytherin when he left the school after disagreeing with the other founders. He thought
Muggles shouldn't be allowed into Hogwarts and the chamber is said to hold some sort of monster that only Slytherin's Heir can control."
"Who do you suppose the Heir is?" Ron asked, not really expecting an answer.
"My money's on Malfoy," Harry spoke up. "You know why he paled like that? I suggested that perhaps he wouldn't be so cheerful if he was blamed for the attack."
Ron snorted softly. "Heir of Slytherin or not, he doesn't want to get expelled, I'm sure. That'd injure the Malfoy pride." He noted Hermione's troubled look. "Oh, come on Hermione. You heard what he said."
"I heard him. But Malfoy, Heir of Slytherin?""
"Think about it Hermione. His family's been in Slytherin for centuries." Harry said reasonablely.
"I bet it's him. He certainly did look unnerved by what you said, Harry," Ron supplied, grinning. Speculation on such things as who might be the Heir of Slytherin was stopped for the night as Fred and George set off a load of firecrackers.
Slytherin house was much quieter than the Gryffindor dorms. Vague mutterings scattered through the darkness about the message on the wall. Occasional snickers and laughter would erupt, but one Slytherin
was silent, hidden from the rest by the green and silver hangings of his four-poster. He was much to busy considering what Harry Potter had whispered in his ear. It still sent chills up and down his spine and he
could hardly believe it. It just wasn't possible; surely he wouldn't, couldn't do such a thing. But the Boy-Who-Lived had been all seriousness, he knew. Draco Malfoy had better watch his step with Potter or he might carry through on his threat. That didn't make the Slytherin sleep any easier that night.
Chapter Two
The day of the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor dawned clear and bright. Harry slipped easily into his scarlet robes and followed the rest of his team onto the pitch. At the signal from Madam Hooch, they mounted facing the Slytherin team. Harry locked eyes with Malfoy who suddenly looked as if he, like Mrs. Norris, had been petrified.
"See you in the air, Malfoy," Harry mouthed. He didn't get a response and as the game began, brooms shot skyward in a flurry of quick movements.
Green and scarlet flew in tandem as the two Seekers finally met up at one end of the Quidditch pitch. Draco's eyes looked frightened, Harry mused. "All right there, Malfoy?"
"Back off, Potter," Draco snarled. He gazed deep into green depths that, last year had been clear and innocent. This year they were cold and icy.
"Do I scare you?" Harry teased, just before diving after a glimpse of gold. The snitch darted and dove crazily around one of the Slytherin goal posts. He saw a flash of green and Malfoy shot passed him, hand
outstretched. "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy," the Gryffindor muttered, tilting forward on his broom and diving under the other Seeker.
Draco realized far too late what the scarlet blur below him was playing at. Potter's broom hit his with such force that he was sent spinning away in the opposite direction. Mouth open in astonishment, for he'd never thought the Golden Boy possessed such a Slytherin cunning, he watched the black-haired Gryffindor snatch the snitch from where it had darted behind Markus Flint's head.
Applause sounded from the stands as the Gryffindor team crowded around Harry. He wasn't focusing on the congratulations he was receiving, though. He caught a quick flash and heard the click of a camera and
groaned inwardly. Colin was back again. Harry lifted his gaze to watch Malfoy land, looking at once furious, grudgingly respectful, and underneath it all, scared.
It was several minutes before Harry got Malfoy alone. When he did, he pinned the Slytherin to the outer wall of the locker rooms as he stepped out, hair still wet. "You're pushing your luck, Malfoy," he warned. "I distinctly recall warning you to mind your manners. I think I also appended to that what I'd do if you didn't."
Draco nodded wordlessly, staring into stormy green depths. He would, at a different time and under different circumstances, have enjoyed Potter pressed against him. But this was neither the time, nor the place. He felt the grip the Gryffindor had on him loosen and he finally found his voice, "I never would have thought it of you, Potter. _You_, Gryffindors' Golden Boy and Hogwarts' celebrity, thinking like a
Slytherin."
A smile crossed Harry's face, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Good thing you aren't paid to think, isn't it?" He turned and left the once-more speechless Malfoy standing there.
The news reached Slytherin last of all the houses that night, brought by Flint himself. A human had been petrified, one of the Gryffindors no less. Everyone was quite smug over the entire thing; everyone but Draco Malfoy. Things had swung crazily in a matter of days from the way they should be to the way he wished they weren't. He didn't like someone having power over him like this, but Potter had it. What was worse, he couldn't rat on Potter without risking his own neck. Even a Slytherin knew better than to cross Slytherin's Heir more than once. Especially when they'd been threatened personally.
Chapter Three
Once more Slytherin and Gryffindor were facing each other across close quarters. Draco could see amusement dancing in Potter's eyes and he gritted his teeth. He had a fleeting thought that perhaps Potter was bluffing; maybe he _wasn't_ Slytherin's Heir. There was a way to test that, but did he dare? As Potter's tickling charm struck him, Draco Malfoy realized that yes, he did dare. "Serpensortia!"
Harry's eyes widened as the end of the Slytherin's wand exploded and a long, black snake hit the floor with a thud. People screamed and cleared back from the surrounding area as the snake rose before Harry,
hissing. He saw Malfoy's look of triumph and realized what he was forcing Harry to do. All right then, let him. They'd just have to have a long talk later and besides, Parselmouth or not, no one else could _prove_ that he was Slytherin's Heir whether Malfoy spilled or not. He opened his mouth before anyone else could act and hissed at the snake in short quick sentences of Parseltongue. Satisfied, he watched it turn and dart for Malfoy, but at a sharp command from Harry stop and lay still at the Slytherin's feet. Across the silent room, they locked eyes and Harry smirked.
Things were a blur after that, but Harry slipped away in the uproar and found Malfoy on his way down to the dungeons. "Clever," Harry noted, falling into step with the Slytherin who jumped. "Didn't take my word on it, did you?"
"Not really," Draco admitted, not looking at the other second year. He wondered if he was in for it now. But to his surprise, Potter dropped a comradely hand on his shoulder.
"You've got more guts than I gave you credit for, Draco." The use of his first name startled the Slytherin, but he replied with simply a nod. "But from now on, I'd suggest you do your tests on my threats in private. If I didn't like you so much..." he trailed off and lent close to Draco, who took a step back. Lips touched lips in a chased kiss that deepened long enough to leave the silvery-haired blonde gasping for
breath.
"What the hell happened to you over the summer, Potter?" he managed, staring into emerald depths. This was way more than he'd ever bargained for and this new version of the Gryffindor scared and unnerved him beyond words.
"I think I woke up a bit," Harry said, shrugging. "I'd think you'd be glad to see me thinking so much like yourself, Draco. Wasn't it you who said I didn't want to go mixing with the wrong sort of wizard? Appears you were right." There was silence as the black-haired boy turned away and moved down the corridor. "We'll talk later," he called back over his shoulder.
"I never thought I'd say it," Draco muttered softly. "But I think it's time Granger, Weasley, and I have a talk."
He sought the pair out after dinner, for once minus Harry. Draco didn't want to think what Potter was off doing. He paused in front of the pair, tense and waited. Ron acknowledged him with a not-so-whitty insult. "I'm not here to pass insults, Weasley. I need to talk to you two about Potter."
"What about him?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"You saw what he did today at the dueling club?" They nodded. "Then you know it's significance?" He hoped he wouldn't have to spell it out for them. He didn't, but they were in denial.
"He can't be," Hermione said shortly. "Harry is _not_ Slytherin's Heir."
"Trying to shift blame, Malfoy?" Ron asked snidely. "It'd be just like you."
"He is Slytherin's Heir," Draco hissed. "He told me so himself!" Disbelieving stares from both Gryffindors at this made Draco almost scream in frustration.
"Why would you care if he was, anyway?" Hermione asked. "I'd think you'd be quite pleased."
"He's not," Ron growled stubbornly.
Draco shifted uneasily, suddenly remembering that chased kiss earlier. "I care because..." he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder and he slowly turned to see Potter behind him. For a moment, Draco was the recipient of the coldest gaze he'd ever felt, then he was released and Harry moved next to Hermione.
"What's he been saying?"
"Malfoy here seems to think _you're_ Slytherin's Heir," Ron noted. "We were just telling him off for you."
"I don't know," Hermione said slowly. "It could be possible." Blank looks met her words. "You _are_ a Parselmouth, Harry. Maybe you...are doing these things and just can't remember..."
"You...you think I'd..." Harry stared at her with such a look of shock and betrayal that Draco silently had to commend Potter's acting abilities. Without another word, the Gryffindor took off, leaving Ron and Hermione to stare after him.
"You don't think-" Ron started, looking uneasy.
"I don't know," Hermione mumbled, staring from Malfoy to where Harry had disappeared. "If you're telling the truth, Malfoy, then we need to get cracking on research. But I personally want some proof."
"I'll get it," Draco said softly. He wasn't sure which he didn't believe. The fact he was working with a Weasel and a Mudblood or the fact that he was doing it to protect the school from Slytherin's Heir. What the hell was he thinking?
END PART 3